Outpost Sunset
by pixelblur
Summary: Visiting York's grave had taken something of an emotional toll on Carolina. Upon returning to the desert, she takes a few moments to collect herself before facing the Red and Blue squads - but Wash realises that what she really needs is someone to talk to.


A/N: Here's the first of the transfer batch from tumblr. Set during the 'road trip' in season 10.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Wash wasn't sure how long she'd been back. He'd just given up on trying to keep the Reds and Blues all in the same space, and retreated to the roof of the temple, only to find Carolina sitting on the edge. Head down, her helmet lying discarded behind her, the sinking sun set her fiery hair ablaze.

She could obviously hear him coming, if the way her shoulders hunched up even further were any indication.

"Go away." The words lacked the usual aggression she injected into her speech. She just sounded sad and... tired.

He knelt beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder plate. Carolina made a half-hearted attempt to shrug him off, but when it was obvious that Wash wasn't leaving, she sighed and continued to stare at the lighter that she was twisting around in her hands. Clearly it had some significance that Wash didn't know about, if the way her fingers were so desperately curled around it were any indication.

"I really don't think you should be alone." He moved closer, swinging his legs out over the edge and sitting down.

"I'm not alone. I've got Church now, don't I?"

Wash shifted. He was always slightly uncomfortable around the AI. He knew it wasn't Epsilon's fault, but every time that Wash looked at him, he couldn't help but remember the fact that Epsilon had, at one point, driven him to insanity. "That's not really the same. Besides, he's logged off right now. You need some human company, even if it's someone as damaged as I am." He smiled crookedly behind his visor. "I'm here for you, boss." Carolina didn't reply to this, but she didn't punch him either, so he took that as an, 'alright, you can stay, but I'm not exactly happy about it'.

They sat in silence for a few moments. The tension eased from Carolina's shoulders - if only marginally - and Wash removed his hand to indicate at the lighter. "That's York's, isn't it?"

Her shoulders shot back up again and Wash mentally slapped himself. "Yes." she replied shortly.

"...When did you get it?"

"When we first met." Her expression grew distant, melancholy etched in sad lines on her face. "I gave it back to him during the break-in. Well, threw it at him, more than anything." She closed her eyes briefly. "I wish I hadn't." The fading sunlight glinted off the lighter, making a small bright spot dance on her left cheek. "I found it where he was killed." Her voice grew soft and forlorn. "He kept it with him all this time." She turned away from him, shutting down again.

After a moment's hesitation, Wash removed his helmet. He hadn't really had much occasion to in recent years. He wasn't even entirely sure what he looked like anymore, apart from the knotted scar stretching from the top of his nose to his brown-and-grey hairline. Hell, he wasn't even sure if there was any brown left at this point.

Carolina looked over at him, mustering a small smile. "So, finally stopped dyeing your hair that ridiculous blonde colour."

Wash's lips quirked wryly. "Yeah, well, peroxide and scars don't really mix."

"...He's sorry, you know," she told him quietly.

"Who? York? What do you-"

"Not York. Epsilon. He knows what he's responsible for, for making you the way you are now, even if he doesn't remember. He wants you to know he's sorry."

Wash was stunned into silence. "Uh, okay?" he managed eventually. "It doesn't really change what happened, but tell him... thanks, I guess."

She stared at the lighter for a few seconds longer, then tucked it away. Twining her fingers in her lap and looking anywhere but Wash's grey-blue eyes, she blurted out, "And I'm sorry too."

"What?"

Carolina laughed brokenly, the words suddenly tumbling out. "So much of this was my fault! If I hadn't selfishly demanded to get both Eta and Iota, you wouldn't have been implanted with Epsilon. South would have gotten an AI, too - maybe if she had, North would still be alive. If I hadn't given up Sigma, Maine wouldn't have turned into a monster, and killed so many of our friends. If I'd just gotten over my petty jealousy of Tex, I would have been able to see the Director for the manipulative bastard he was so much sooner, and York-" Her voice wavered. "York wouldn't have thought I died feeling like he'd betrayed me." She held back the tears threatening to betray her, stubbornly blaming their presence on the glare of the sunset.

"...Carolina, none of that was your fault." A stifled sob escaped her, a tear dripping from her chin despite her efforts. "If you want to blame anyone, blame the Director. I know you already do - that's why we're here in the first place. Just stop blaming yourself."

Perhaps it was because Wash was so unused to seeing Carolina so vulnerable, so apart from her usual abrasive attitude that he was taken completely by surprise when she pressed her lips to his. As it was, he froze up for a few seconds, and she pulled back, turning her face away from him to hide her reddened cheeks.

After a few awkward seconds, Wash placed his hand over hers. "I won't pretend to know what you're feeling right now," he told her. "But you need to remember I'm not him."

She looked at him again, eyes red-rimmed and filled with pain. "I know that." Her tone was almost defensive, but her voice cracked on her next words. "But you're the damn closest thing I've got." With that, she leaned her head on his shoulder, let go of her pride and broke down completely. Wash put his arms around her and comforted her as best he could, knowing very well the effect that bottling up emotions like Carolina had been doing could have. He knew she was using him as a proxy, and although it probably wasn't the best idea ever to go along with it, Wash was aware that, for that moment, she really needed him to.

In the back of his mind, he was glad that the Reds and Blues were too busy bickering to bother leaving the temple. If any of them had chanced upon Carolina in such an emotionally susceptible state, he wasn't sure she would have left them entirely unscathed. Or alive.

"Just let it out, 'Lina," he soothed, automatically using the old nickname York had used for her. He winced as this set off a fresh bout of sobs. All these years, and he still managed to make things worse by talking.

A few minutes passed, Wash with one hand curled around the bulky armour covering her shoulders and the other patting her forearm, Carolina with her arms twined around his midsection and clutching at him as if her life depended on it. Both of them, just clinging to the memory of the life they used to have.

Eventually, she loosened her death grip and tried to regain her composure, wiping her eyes and tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ears. "If any of the others ask, that never happened," she warned him, her gaze flinty.

He glanced down. "Of course, boss."

She bit her lip, uncharacteristically indecisive, then before she could change her mind gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Wash. You were right - I did need that." She flashed a wide smile at him, a smile that he hadn't seen on her face since before the break-in. Without another word, she scooped up her helmet, put it on, and sauntered down into the temple.

They didn't really talk about it later, even though their thoughts danced around the incident. When they had gone to Valhalla and Caboose had made the seemingly stupid insinuation that Wash and Carolina were in a relationship and were taking it further, she was dumbstruck enough that Epsilon answered before she could.

And that's why it hurt twice as much when Wash pointed the gun at the back of her head.


End file.
